For Future Reference, See a Psychic
by Autumn Kismet
Summary: Dan is a bully, Phil is fed up. It's safe to say that Dan and Phil do not get along. Phil looks forward to the day when he never has to see Dan's face again - until Mr Wilder, a weird old 'psychic' with strange, powerful gifts shows him that that day will never come, that Dan and Phil are destined to be together for the rest of their lives, no matter how much they hate each other.
1. Chapter 1

Isn't it funny how we, as humans, can live out our entire lives without thinking about what's around us, what's just beyond our knowledge and a matter of millimeters out of our reach? Most people go their entire lives, seventy, eighty, ninety years without knowing, while a small handful of others go a mere five, sixteen, thirty years before they discover what else is out there, and even then they're not entirely in the know. As far as humans know, we're all there is; there is nothing bigger than us, nothing more powerful, nothing and no one more cultured or enlightened than us people… but there's more out there than just what we think we know.

We are not the only worldly souls on this Earth. Some form of existences have been around since long before the conception of the idea of humans. There are living beings that know how and why us humans are here, there are some individuals living at the ages of something like five hundred and seventy-two with more centuries ahead of them, and they know that nothing is all-powerful, nothing is immortal, nothing and no one is more cultivated or educated than them… but there may be more out there than what _they_ think. No one will ever know if there is a species of humanoids or human-like entities more advanced than their own kind, and that's where true power lies, in the ability to mask their existence, just as some around the globe have done for millennia. Why a select amount of these advanced, earlier beings choose to meddle in the lives of regular humans is unknown, perhaps even questionable, though this doesn't stop those that do. Maybe, some think, those that do change the mortal realities have an agenda, a plan, or perhaps even just the motivation to improve the short lives of those less fortunate as themselves. Who knows if their intentions are even good in the first place? No one, that's who.

It's dark in here. This isn't the kind of place the Phil would normally be, but when he saw it yesterday he couldn't help but feel attracted to it and immediately call and book an appointment for after school today. From the outside it looks like any other building on the street, but on the inside it's something entirely different from what Phil had expected. It wasn't like your average psychic's place of work, it looked like an old office in a library. Bookcases full of bound pages full of words full of meaning, many of the books looked older than the wise-looking gentleman in front of him. Phil couldn't help but be slightly taken aback by the fact that he hadn't been seated at a round tea table with a woman with a purple, sequinned scarf on her head and a crystal ball within arm's reach. Perhaps making an appointment with a psychic, especially this one, isn't the best idea Phil has ever had…

"You were six, weren't you?" the man asks once Phil is properly seated across the large ornate desk.

"I was six when- what?" Phil asks, a little startled,

"You were six years old when you met Dan."

"I don't know, I guess that's about right. Why?"

"He's why you're here, isn't he?"

"What? Because he's a complete and utter jerk? I'm not entirely positive about this," Phil rolls his eyes, "But I have this distinct feeling that maybe he's not _the entire focus of my life_. He's just a playground bully, in a few years I'm never going to have to see him again and I'll move on with my life to bigger and better things."

"Philip-"

"It's Phil."

"Alright, Phil. If he's not the focus of your entire life, then who, or what, is?"

"Me? Is it me? Is that the right answer?"

"There often isn't a _wrong_ answer."

"Oh trust me, if there's a wrong answer I'm going to be the one to find it."

"It doesn't seem like you have much confidence in yourself, not in a positive light at least."

"Yeah, I guess so. This is all a little strange, I don't even know why I'm here…"

"You're here because you need help, a kind of help that very few beings can offer. Luckily for you, I'm one of them."

Phil straightens himself up in his seat, the red of the plush on the base of the chair shifting beneath his dark grey school trousers. During the amount of time he's been here, precisely eleven minutes and fifteen seconds, this is the first time he's moved from his slouched and disinterested position in Mr Wilder's office. The white-bearded man stands from the cider armchair behind his desk, the black haired boy's eyes following each him with every movement. Wilder stops abruptly. The boy wants to speak, but alas, he cannot. What is there to say? What, of the million questions running through his mind, could he possibly ask?

Running his fingers along the tall, dark pine bookshelf, tracing the bottom of each spine as he proceeds, Mr Wilder takes one footstep per second as he makes his way behind Phil. Each movement in perfect time with the ticking of the cuckoo clock perched just below one of the ceiling beams in the centre of the back wall. As he makes his way behind Phil, the teen aged boy's head turns, neck craning to keep his eyes on his strange psychic. It's their first session, trust has not yet been built. There is no rapport, only an uncomfortable, awkward feeling radiating from Phil; this is a social situation of which he is not yet familiar.

"Phil," Mr Wilder says after their brief silence, "Do you remember that day?"

"What day?" he asks, forgetting the opening of their conversation. Mr Wilder has to admit, he's somewhat shocked that Phil hasn't questioned how he knows what he knows about Phil. If anything, he's a little disappointed that his client hasn't given him the stunned reaction he's grown accustomed to. For a bright young boy Phil's surprisingly oblivious, he thinks.

"That day when you were six, Philip. The day when you met Dan."

"The day I met Dan Howell? Of course, it was my first day of school," he nods, "God, it was scary."

"Tell me about it."

"Dad woke me up and reminded me that it was my first day of 'big school', I was nervous but still very excited. He told me to have a good day and that he'd see me after work, then me and mum had breakfast with my brother before she dropped us off at school. Martyn went straight to his friends, but I begged mum to come with me," Phil recounts with an embarrassed chuckle. Mr Wilder pulls a single book from one of the large bookcases and makes his way back to the desk in front of Phil, "Of course she came with me to meet my teacher and make sure I was okay, I was so relieved when everyone else had their parents with them too," Phil continued.

"That first day of school is a prime example of a time when a child needs their parent, wouldn't you agree?"

"God, yes!" he smiles, "I'm so glad that my mum was there to hold my hand…"

"When did Dan come into the picture?" Mr Wilder asks him; Phil ponders for a moment,

"At recess. All the parents had gone home and we were all outside playing, sort of. Everyone else was playing, I was sitting on those long, silver seats that were built all over the school…" the blue eyed boy looks sad for second before sucking in a short breath of air and continuing after the psychic's signal to keep going, "Dan walked up to me and asked why I had no friends."

"How did that make you feel?" Mr Wilder asks, adopting a line more typical to a psychiatrist than a psychic.

"I don't know… I felt like he was just mean, it hurt my feelings. He just walked up to me and pointed out that I was by myself and didn't have anyone to play with. I mean, it's not the worst thing he's ever done to me, but we had literally just met."

"And what did you say in response to him?"

"Nothing. I stood up, stepped over the little, silver bench-seat-thing, turned around and sat back down facing away from him. I'm not exactly good at confrontation or arguing…"

"What would you have done differently if you had seen the whole picture?"

"The whole picture? What do you mean? That's all the happened, there was nothing else," he insists, "What is there to do differently? I don't think I should have argued, I did the right thing."

"Under the circumstances, I agree," Wilder nods, "But Philip, there are always two sides to every story."


	2. Chapter 2

Somewhere in the house there's noise, but Phil can't tell where it's coming from. He rolls over absentmindedly, still not having opened his eyes, pulling the quilt over his shoulders a little more. It's warm in his bed and he can't remember how long it's been since he'd felt this well rested. There's a light knock on the door and he lets out a small noise so whomever it is, probably his mum, knows that he's awake and will get up and ready for school in a minute.

"Come on, bud," his dad's familiar voice says, "You all ready for your first day of school?"

"Dad?" Phil murmurs, "What are you talking about?" It's not his first day of school, he's sixteen years old and it has been more than ten years since his first day of school. Obviously his dad is just playing around.

"Aw, Phil, have you changed your mind? You don't want to go to big school? I promise it'll be great, you'll make lots of friends and learn lots of cool things," his father continues, "Come on, up you get!"

Phil opens his eyes for the first time since waking up and looks up at his dad. Has he grown? He's definitely grown, somehow, because Phil's dad surely wasn't this tall yesterday. He glances around the room and notices his familiar, yet foreign, surroundings. This was his bedroom when he was six. Green sheets with cartoon lions lined up around the bottom of his quilt, some stuffed dinosaurs sitting on his chest of drawers, his brand-new school bag sitting on the floor by the door – this couldn't be right.

"Okay…" Phil utters to his dad, "I can get dressed."

"Good boy," he smiles down at him, "You're going to have a great day, and I promise we'll talk all about it when we get home, alright? Do you remember where your school uniform is?"

"Uh, the second drawer?"

"Alright," he smiles again, reaching to give Phil a quick hug before heading out, "I'm so proud of you."

After ten minutes of freaking out alone in his room, Phil finally gains the nerve to look in the mirror. He takes a small step, which he had intended to be a lot bigger, toward the wardrobe, closing his eyes as he steps in front of it completely. He'll look on the count of three, he decides. _One… Two… Three…_ His scrunched eyes open in a flash and soon enough there's a loud gasp escaping from his mouth. He's six. He is literally six years old. A child. This makes no sense! What the hell is happening!? What's the last thing he can remember before waking up as a child, as his six year old self with light brown-orange, short hair and cheeks slightly chubbier than he remembers? It was a Wednesday. He had school – high school, not kindergarten – and then he went straight to his appointment with- oh hell, no! This is exactly what he had talked about with Mr Wilder, he must've done this… somehow. That weird, slightly creepy, white haired, old man had done this to him!

"Phil, baby! Breakfast's ready!" his mum calls from down stairs. She's probably expecting him to be in his new uniform. This is actually his first day of school. In a flash he throws his clothes on, struggling with some buttons for a moment as a result of his small, uncoordinated fingers, grabs his school bag and rushes down the stairs to join his mother and brother for breakfast before school.

Everything's happening as anticipated. Martyn drinks the last of the orange juice as their mother tells him to watch out for Phil around school. She's just a little bit emotional as she equates Phil going to school to having all of her 'chickadee's leave the nest', the only difference is that this time he understands what that means and he giggles a little. After being ushered into the car, his brother talks to him, asking if he's nervous. Phil says no.

They pull up at the school gates and Martyn leaps from the vehicle, bidding the rest of his family goodbye as he bounds toward his friends at the basketball courts. Phil takes in a deep breath. He knows how this has to go now.

"Mum…" he says softly, "Mum, will you come with me?"

"Of course I will, sweetheart," she grins at him, "You're being so brave! Can I have one last hug before I have to take my grown up son to big school?" She opens her arms wide and Phil allows himself to dive into them, feeling small and protected for the first time in a long while as her arms wrap him up and her lips press against his forehead. "You're never too big for cuddles with mummy though, right?"

"Right," Phil smiles, "I love you, mummy," he whispers, holding back tears. He's missed this. He hasn't been like this with his mother in far too long. He doesn't know what happened, but something did somewhere along the lines and now, back at home as a sixteen year old boy in year ten, he can't imagine just wrapping his arms around his mother and telling her that he loves her. The second he gets back, IF he gets back, that's the first thing he's going to do.

Standing by his mother's side, his hand in hers, he listens to her talking to his new teacher, Miss Analia, thinking back, she was probably one of his favourite teachers. If he remembers correctly, this will be her last year teaching at his primary school, at the end of the year she's going to move to The Philippines and volunteer to teach some of the under privileged children there.

"Phil, do you want to leave me and Miss Analia for a moment, we need to talk about some grown up stuff, is that okay?" his mother asks him, Phil smiles and nods before beginning to walk down the concrete lane toward some of the other children. This part didn't happen before, it's all new. Does this mean that the past has been changed and when he gets back the entire world will be different!?

"Please, mum…" Phil suddenly hears the voice of another little boy, probably about the same age as him, "Can you come with me? I'm scared…"

 _"That first day of school is a prime example of a time when a child needs their parent, wouldn't you agree?"_ Mr Wilder's voice suddenly echo's through Phil's mind as he remembers what was said during their session, which to be honest, Phil doesn't remember ever ending.

"Daniel, you're five years old, not three! Everyone else is going to school and behaving, why can't you just be like them?"

"Mummy, I can't do it… I can't go by myself…" Phil can hear the boy cry, their voices are coming from just around the corner, outside the receptionist's office. He can hear the fear and pain in the little boy's voice, why won't his mother go with him?

"Dan, just go, okay?! I'm not in the mood for this and I'm tired of your attitude. Stop crying and just go to your classroom, I want to get home already!" his mum stresses and Phil can hear the sound of heels against the cement as she walks away. Phil takes in a deep breath and rounds the corner, his sight being met with a little boy with hair the colour of wet bark and eyes that match accordingly. He knows who this is and he sighs internally.

"Is your name Dan?" Phil asks gently, the little boy wipes his eyes and nods, "My name's Phil. It's my first day too," he smiles.

"Hi," Dan answers back quietly, he's hesitant, and Phil can't blame him. Little Dan looks terrified.

"I was really scared this morning," Phil says, and he's not quite sure whether or not it counts as the truth, "But it's not so bad now. I think you're in my class, maybe we can be friends and we can go back together?"

"Yeah?" little Dan smiles shyly, "I'm not very good at making friends…"

"That's okay, I bet you're really good at lots of other things," Phil tells him.

It's now recess and Phil's sitting alone on the silver seats watching the other little boys and girls play chasings, handball, and a variety of hand clapping games that one of the older girls, probably in year four or five, was teaching anyone that wanted to learn. It's coming. The moment that Phil remembers so clearly, when Dan comes over and says the first of many mean things to come over the next ten years. He's getting closer, and closer, and suddenly he's in the exact place that Phil knew he would stand.

"Why don't you have any friends?" Dan asks loudly, but this time Phil doesn't get up and turn around, he just looks at him for a moment. He hadn't really looked at him last time, and if he had then clearly he wasn't yet skilled in understanding what the poor boy really meant.

"Sorry?" Phil asks carefully, and Dan quickly covers his mouth and looks away,

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to- I just, I meant… That isn't what I meant to say…" he stammers awkwardly, almost as if he's going to cry because he's so upset in himself that he could have offended Phil.

"It's okay," Phil chuckles, "Do you wanna sit with me?"

"Thanks," Dan smiles, "I'm really sorry… I just wanted to ask why you were by yourself and then… I'm sorry." Dan hadn't meant to hurt Phil after all, it was all a big misunderstanding! He was trying to be his friend and keep him company, not hurt his feelings and start bully-victim relationship with him! Phil had been wrong all along! He looks over at Dan's big, brown eyes, the little boy looks happy. Phil smiles at him and shuts his eyes for a brief moment to relish in his newfound understanding, but when he opens them once more he's suddenly not sitting outside on the school playground anymore…

Phil's eyes open slowly. He looks around, still slightly disorientated from what feels like sleep, and he's at home, in his own living room and in his own sixteen year old body. He's alone. He can hear pots and pans being clanked about in the kitchen, probably his dad's effort to cook dinner judging by the lack of light outside and the dainty footsteps that he can hear from upstairs, those presumably belong to his mother. Nothing's changed. Everything is normal, from what he can tell at least, and he's not entirely sure whether or not that whole time travel experience was real or a very, very, very vivid dream.

"Phil? Phil, can you come up here, please?" his mum calls from upstairs. Phil quickly pulls himself to his feet, finding himself a little disorientated due to the sudden shift in height, and rushes up the stairs to find his mum. "Ugh! Phil! Yes!" she sighs at the sight of him, "You're tall, can you help my shove these sheets to the top-back of the linen closet?"

He looks at her for a moment. It wasn't long ago since she had held him in her arms and hugged him close, sending feelings of comfort throughout him. He wants that again. Phil loves his mother, he loves her more than he had ever dared to admit since having grown up a little. "Mum…" he murmurs, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around her smaller frame and resting his head against her shoulder, "Mum, I love you."

"Phil, honey, I love you too," she replies after a moment, hugging him back tightly and managing to reach up to run her fingers over his black hair, "Is everything alright? What happened? Did something happen at your appointment this afternoon?"

His appointment! With Mr Wilder! That was only this afternoon? Whatever happened felt like hours, literal hours with the rotation of the earth and ticking of the clocks and everything, but he hadn't lost more than an hour to that appointment.

"No, mum. Everything is okay, nothing happened. I just… do you remember when I was six and you took me to my first day of school?"

"Of course, sweetie," she smiles as Phil pulls away slightly to talk to her properly,

"I miss when I used to hug you and tell you I love you, and I miss sitting with you and telling you everything…" he looks down at the ground, struggling to hold himself together. He knows how much this means to her, and he knows how important this is for himself too, "I don't mean to be distant, and I don't know why I am sometimes, but I'm going to try harder to be a better son to you, okay?"

"Okay, baby," she grins with a nod, "You're really growing up into an exceptional young man, you're always going to be my baby, but I'm so glad that I'm able to watch you grow up into who you're becoming. I love you so much," she says, reaching to pull him into another hug, " _You're never too big for cuddles with mummy."_


	3. Chapter 3

The thing about changing the past the way Phil had done is that no one can really be sure of the implications it may have on the present, or future. The possibilities of what could be different are what are running through Phil's mind as he runs out the front door, late for period one History. He'd slept in. He didn't feel all too responsible for it though, to fair he had been awake a lot longer yesterday than he had intended to be thanks to those few hours in the past that he had to live through on top of his normal daily routine. Phil figures that makes sense… sort of. Time travel doesn't make sense to him in the slightest, but convincing himself that he has some sort of understanding is a little comforting.

He rushes through the halls of the school until he finds his classroom, room F14, finding it somewhat ironic that the fact that having no students in the hallways to block his path is beneficial to him making it to class, but also a sign that he's already too late. He pushes down the handle to his History room and stumbles ungracefully through the door, drawing the attention of the entire class, Daniel Howell among them. Phil stops staring, forcing his eyes away from the burnt umber that colours Dan's eyes and turns his attention to the front of the room, he gaze meeting a familiar face. It's not Mrs Barillas. It's Mr Wilder.

"Ah, yes. Mr Lester?" Mr Wilder asks, signalling for Phil to make his way over to the teacher's desk, "Mrs Barillas isn't here today, I'm Mr Wilder and I'm taking over for- until she gets back."

"Um… Mr Wilder..?" Phil queries once the class is distracted by something else and no longer paying attention.

"Yes, Philip?"

"Where's Mrs Barillas?"

"Is that really the first question you want the answer to?" Mr Wilder retorts with a slight chuckle,

"Yes! I mean, no, but yes. Where is she?" Phil demands.

"I don't know, actually. She really is off work, I just stole the notes for the substitute."

"That's how easy it is to just commandeer a classroom of kids? Just steal the notes?! I thought schools were meant to be safe!"

"Phil, keep your voice down," Mr Wilder's stern voice interrupts him, "I take it you want some answers?"

"Yes!" Phil answers exasperatedly, "Like, what the hell happened yesterday? How did that even happen? I was sent back more than ten years! It was time travel, except, I wasn't me. I was the 'me' of then, not the 'me' of now – I don't understand it!"

"It's a gift," the older man smiles smugly, tilting his head to the side, "The thing is, Philip Lester, it's a gift that I like to use to… help people."

"I don't understand why I'm one of those people, and I don't understand why I've never heard of this happening before. Why has no one else said anything to the media, or to… anyone?" Phil questions, eyes darting around the desk in front of him for answers.

"Philip, if you went around telling people that a psychic literally sent you back in time you would probably be locked up somewhere. I'm helping you because I believe you have great potential. One trip back and you're already noticeably more aware of yourself. Have you noticed? You're working toward a stronger relationship with your mother and you took a step back to take a look at the entirety of a negative situation and change the past." Wilder explains, "Now tell me, does that sound like a worthy enough cause?"

"I guess," Phil shrugs, "But if I'm changing the past then won't that affect the… um, the now? What if the changes I make to the past cause Jerry Seinfeld to become the Prime Minister, or cause all of the lions to be extinct? We just don't know what effect it could have!"

"Perhaps, Phil," Mr Wilder smiles, "Your life is not as big of an impact on the rest of the world as you may think."

Phil spends the rest of the class focusing on the blank, lined paper in front of him, unable to focus on whatever nonsense his psychic is teaching the class. This, oddly enough, is not something he had ever anticipated experiencing. The bell rings and the vast majority of the class exits the room, Mr Wilder included, Phil doesn't move. He knows he needs to get to his next class, but what is he to expect? Nothing is making any sense and he would much rather stay planted in his seat than go to his English class. Mr Wilder's probably taken over than class too. Perhaps all of his classes. What if there's no escape?

"You do realise that you're supposed to get up and leave the room when the bell rings, right?" A voice interrupts Phil's thoughts, but he doesn't turn to see who it is, "What's wrong with you?" the male voice asks when Phil doesn't respond. It's Dan. "We have a substitute teacher and you've already become the teacher's pet, now what are you doing? Staying in here in hopes that your gross old boyfriend comes back?"

"Daniel," Phil sighs, "Can you just… not? I'm not in the mood for your crap right now."

"Do I have to book an appointment to talk to you now?"

"This," Phil turns to look at him now, "Isn't talking to me. This barely constitutes as a conversation. This is you just being a complete jerk, as usual, and you know what? I don't get it! I don't get why you've always been a jerk to me, and I thought I'd figured it out and prevented any more of this from happening, but now here we are!"

"What the fuck is your problem, Lester? I knew you were a weirdo but now you just sound crazy. Maybe you should go and get some professional help because I don't want to be around when you totally lose it and end up setting the school on fire or something," Dan sneers, quickly gripping the back of Phil's head and pushing it forward so that it hits the desk in front of him, "See-ya, freak."

A dull, throbbing pain radiating from his forehead, Phil takes in a deep breath, watching Dan leave the room for his next class. He just doesn't understand why Dan hates him so much. Didn't that day in Kindergarten set the scene for years of torment to come? Why hadn't anything changed?

Lunch; students, teenagers, everywhere. The grass fields laden with energetic students and teachers playing football and having playful arguments with the Australian exchange student over whether or not it's called football or soccer. Off to the back of the biggest field sits Phil and his ferociously annoying best friend, Chris. After several minutes of eating their homemade sandwiches in silence Chris coughs, takes a swig from his bottle of room temperature water, and speaks up.

"What's wrong?" he sighs, "You've been weird all day, did something happen?"

"Huh? No, no, I'm fine," Phil lies. The truth is that Mr Wilder was right. If he were to tell someone the truth about what happened no one would believe him, he would be deemed crazy.

"Is it the psychic thing? Was it totally weird?"

"That's one way to describe it…"

"Did you have a massive break through and discover your future and now you're unable to continue to live your life the way you did before?" Chris jokes with a laugh, but after watching his friend for a moment, taking in the way Phil's face falls as he breaks their eye contact, he realises that maybe it wasn't that funny. "Oh. Oh god, you did… I'm so sorry… Are you okay?" He asks his friend, Chris doesn't really believe in all that 'psychic nonsense', but Phil does and by the looks of his downcast azure eyes, he's not okay right now.

"I'm fine. It's not just that, the thing is- ugh, this sounds so stupid, but- I just- I thought that I had figured something out and it turns out that nothing has changed and this whole crazy thing was for nothing…" Phil exasperates, "And now I'm just worried about, well, everything."

Chris considers this for a moment before his sight turns to focus on something just behind Phil's left shoulder. His face scrunches up slightly and he immediately turns back to Phil, "I can't say I understand, and I'm sorry to cut this short, but Dan Howell and his friends are starting at us. Okay, not us, just you."

"That's just fucking great," Phil sighs, taking Chris by surprise with his cursing – it's not something one would usually hear from Phil's mouth.

"He's coming over here… Are you alright? You look like you've swallowed a frog…"

"Oh look," a jeering voice infiltrates the eardrums of both Chris and Phil, "It's the happy couple!"

The thing about Dan Howell is that he is, always has been and always will be, a bully. If he's being honest, Phil can't think of a time when he hasn't been paranoid of what Dan is going to do or say, and it's a horrible feeling having to watch your back all the time, as Phil well knows. Dan's always made his absolute best effort to keep Phil on edge and just because he was misunderstood back on the first day of kindergarten, ten and a half years ago, does not change that fact at all.

"What do you want, Dan? I thought I already told you that I'm not in the mood…" Phil sighs, shocking Chris again because, in his experience as Phil's friend, he has never witnessed his blue eyed friend stand up for himself or throw attitude at someone – especially not Dan.

"Feeling a bit sassy today, huh?" Dan answers him, "I hear that periods will do that to you."

"Seriously?" Phil raises his voice and stands up, brushing the grass from his pants off and back onto the ground, "Making personal insults at me isn't good enough for you anymore and you're resulting to sexism and comments about periods? That's really pathetic, Dan, I've got to admit, even I thought you were better than that."

"The only thing that's pathetic here is your little crew of the two of you," Dan smirks, "Maybe you'd better show some respect."

"Maybe," Chris speaks up, "You'd better leave before someone messes up that pretty little smile you've got there."

"Oh, that's right," Dan shakes his head with a spiteful chuckle, "The two of you faggots are probably enjoying this. I don't know how you do it," Dan turns to Phil, "Being able to look but not touch. I don't mind if you check me out, that's your prerogative, but it's a little sad, don't you think? The way you just pine over me despite knowing that I'm not like you. I'm not some sick, gay, pervert."

Phil just shakes his head and leaves. He's not going to put up with that crap and he knows that there's no point in making the situation worse than it already is. He heads back into the main school building, stopping off at his locker to pick up a book or two for homework and turns to head home, in doing so colliding head-on with some poor soul.

"Crap, no! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I was- I wasn't looking where I was going," Phil splutters, squatting down to pick up the two text books he'd dropped before looking up at the person in front of him.

"Philip, just the boy I was looking for," the deep voice belonging to Mr Wilder says, Phil sighs and drops the text books back onto the floor before slumping down to the ground himself.

"Really?!" Phil demands, irritated by the entire day in general, "Are you just everywhere?! Is it at all possible for me to avoid you!? Do I not get a moment to myself?!"

"Having a rough day?" Mr Wilder asks calmly, "It's understandable given the blatant bullying you've just experienced. That Dan kid really hits low, don't you think?"

"Well, obviously, yes. Thank you for your expert opinion there," Phil replies sarcastically.

"Do you think you handled that situation back there well?"

"Are we really doing this? Right here, right now?" Mr Wilder doesn't answer, he simply waits for a response to his own question, after a few moments of silence Phil rolls his eyes, "Fine. Yes. If I had to go back and do it again, I wouldn't change a thing."

"Tell me, Phil, have you ever had a boyfriend or a girlfriend?"

'I had a girlfriend in year nine, why?" Phil answers, Mr Wilder just nods,

"Do you remember the day you proposed?"

"The day I what?" Phil replies, taken aback, "No, I don't, because I've never proposed to anyone."

"Yet."

"Yet?"

"Yes, yet. Today you face bullying and hurtful slurs at the hands of a young, ignorant boy, but what of the future, _your_ future? Why did you and your year nine girlfriend break up, Phil?" Mr Wilder enquires, obviously already knowing the answer.

"Because I kissed Chris… I felt so guilty and I couldn't lie to her about it…"

"And that's when you realised that..?"

"That I'm pansexual," Phil states, "But I don't get how I'm supposed to remember something that hasn't happened yet?"

"You'll see," Mr Wilder says with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

The birds are chirping outside, all the warmth is trapped beneath the duvet, keeping him warm, and somewhere in the house someone is making pancakes. It was a dreamless sleep it seems, but he's happy and well rested. Eventually the sun makes its way to shine in through the small gap in the curtains, causing Phil to begin questioning just why his alarm hasn't gone off. He blinks a few times, opening his eyes, and then it hits him. This isn't his bedroom. These aren't his sheets, those aren't his curtains, those aren't his drawers – he's never seen any of these things before, with the exception of his little stuffed lion that's sitting on the bedside table. He scrambles from the bed, tangling himself up in the duvet and falling to the floor with a loud bang. Picking himself up, he shakes the duvet off and throws it back on the bed, turning around briefly and catching himself in the mirror – something's not right. He's… older. Why is he older?! Is this something to do with Mr Wilder?

He stops and takes another moment to examine himself in the mirror, according to his reflection, he seems to have aged well, however old he is, his hair is different but he guesses that it's more appropriate for his age. Scanning down his body in the mirror, there's more hair peppered on his chest and- oh god. He's naked.

"Phil, are you okay?! I heard a bang!" a male's voice calls from the doorway behind him, he turns around and looks the stranger right in the face, unsure of what exactly he's going to say to justify… well, anything. Except it's not a stranger.

"…Dan?" he breathes, completely forgetting to cover himself up,

"Yeah? Are you okay? You don't look well, baby," the brown haired man before him says as he takes a step forward toward him, "Do you feel alright?"

"Oh my god!" Phil shoots Dan a silent apology after once again realising how bare he is, immediately rushing to cover himself up, but Dan doesn't say anything about it, he just leisurely strolls over and runs his fingers through Phil's hair before pulling him in to kiss him gently.

"What's wrong?" Dan asks him with big doe eyes, "Are you feeling okay?"

"D-D-Dan?" Phil breathes again in disbelief. What on earth is going on?! Why is Dan kissing him?! Why would Dan want to kiss him?! Dan hates Phil, and Phil just really cannot stand Dan. "W-what are..?" Phil struggles to form a coherent sentence, "Why did you…"

"Okay, Phil, just sit down alright? Everything's okay…" Dan whispers, guiding Phil to sit on the edge of the bed, "Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"Where are we, and why are we here, and- what are… are we…?"

"Fuck…" Dan murmurs to himself before taking a moment to compose his thoughts. "Phil, we're in our bedroom, okay? This is our bed, we're at home. We live here. It's almost half eight in the morning, and it is Saturday. Do you remember, kitten?"

"Why are you calling me kitten, and why did you kiss me, and why am I naked, and why do we live together?" Phil blurts out suddenly, failing to take in much of what Dan's saying, he can take a not-so-wild guess, but right now his brain just isn't functioning.

"Phil, you're my boyfriend, remember? And I'm your boyfriend? We live together, and sleep together, and-"

"But you hate me!"

"What? No, baby, no… I don't hate you! Did I do something? I'm so sorry…" Dan answers, looking as if he's going to cry, "Phil, I love you so much, I thought you knew that…"

"You love me?" Phil queries, "And… we're together?"

"We have been for almost seven years now, you know that, Phil."

"How old are we?" Phil asks, and Dan bites his lip. He knows that something is wrong but he doesn't understand any of what's happening. He can't, for the life of him, figure out what could have happened for Phil to suddenly lose his memory like this.

"You're twenty-three and tomorrow I turn twenty-two… Phil, I think we need to get you to a doctor, alright? Clearly something is really wrong and it's scaring me…" Dan says, breaths shuddering between punctuation.

"No, no. It's fine. I'm fine. I don't need a doctor, okay? I'm just a bit, um, out of it. I promise I don't need a doctor."

"Please don't get mad at me for asking, but… you didn't…" Dan begins before he audibly clears his throat and continues with tears beginning to brim in his eyes, "You know… again? Because if you did then, I um, I understand but- you have to tell me, Phil, please..?"

Didn't do what again? What's Dan talking about? Phil lets the questions sit in his mind, but he refrains himself from asking, maybe he doesn't want to know.

"What didn't I do again and why do I have to tell you?" Phil asks, Dan just lets out a shaky breath.

"Phil, just stay here. Don't move, okay? I need to check something and then I'm calling the doctor. Don't get upset at me and don't argue," Dan explains as calmly as possible, "I love you and I'm so sorry about our fight last night, I just thought… I thought we sorted it out. Just stay put, I'll be right back."

Dan leaves the room, hesitantly, and Phil takes the opportunity to look around the room. Standing from the spot Dan had seated him on the bed and wandering across the room, he spots several different little things throughout the room that stand out to him. Of course there's his little stuffed lion, but there's also a framed photo of Dan standing with his arms around Phil, lips pressed against Phil's morning stubble. He's grinning happily in that picture, it's a contagious smile and Phil doesn't even notice when Dan walks back into the room.

"That's the day we got Susan," Dan breaks the quiet of the room with a breathy laugh and a gentle shake of his head, "What kind of a name is Susan for a dog anyway?" he chuckles.

"I think Susan is an excellent name for a dog," Phil says, turning to look at Dan properly, "Dan… do you remember high school?" he asks suddenly, "Because that's where my mind is at right now."

"Jesus… fuck. Well, as you can tell, things've changed a bit," Dan nervously chuckles, "Do you really not remember anything?"

Phil opens his mouth to answer, but suddenly Dan stops moving, and talking, and breathing. Everything is silent, time stopped completely. "Phil, you can't tell him the truth," Mr Wilder's voice comes from behind him, and he whips around to see the man standing in the doorway, "You need to let time run the course it's destined to. Tomorrow the Phil of the future is going to propose, you are now that Phil. The ring is in the cabinet under the laundry sink."

"Isn't 'Phil of the future' some old Disney show? Is this some kind of big joke to you? Why would I want to marry Dan?! Literally just today he made fun of me for not being straight and every single day of my life since I met him has been utter hell!" Phil argues, "Honestly, why should I? I should just do my future self a favour and dump him."

"Your future self loves him. Dan makes you happy in the future, together you make a great team and-" the old psychic begins, but Phil cuts him off.

"Dan just told me that we had a fight last night."

"Every couple fights," Wilder tells him, "Philip, just go along with what the day brings. Propose to him, you won't regret it," and with that the man is gone and time resumes.

"Phil?" Dan repeats, resting his hand on Phil's shoulder.

"I remember. It's all coming back," Phil lies, "I promise I'm okay."

"Are you sure, love?" Dan asks, eyes brimming with concern, and Phil smiles as he nods, doing his best not to recoil when the brown haired man pulls him into a tight hug, kissing him gently before loosening his embrace and pulling away. "I love you so much, Phil… Please, will you just promise me that if you start using again, even if it's a one-time thing, you'll tell me? Please," Dan sighs, "I just want you to be okay, I just want what's best for you…"

Using? Using?! Using WHAT?! Phil's never touched drugs in his life, and he certainly does NOT intend to start. Ever.

"Just, hypothetically…" Phil hesitates to ask, "What do you suspect I've been using?"

"Oh my god, Phil… You have, haven't you?" Dan breathes, "Don't make me play guessing games, just tell me what it was this time. Was it diazepam, lorazepam, Xanax, or was it something stronger? It's something stronger, isn't it? Please tell me it's not something illegal, or- no, it's already illegal, just tell me that it's not something illicit or overly dangerous…"

He crumbles. Tears falling from Phil's eyes, fear shooting through his veins, blood rushing through his ears, Phil just can't help but fall apart. He is, or was, a good kid! He seldom does the slightest thing wrong, he doesn't smoke, he doesn't drink at parties, and he's never taken any drugs in his life with the exception of when he needed to and had them properly prescribed by a doctor – where could the drug use have come from? Does this mean he's been using things like heroin? Is that what Dan means by illicit and dangerous, or has it always just been the abuse of anxiety and anti-depressant prescription medications? Is that a thing people can even get addicted to? Is his future-self dependent on them? How could this have happened? WHEN could this have happened?

He needs answers and he needs them now, but suddenly he's hyperventilating and he doesn't know why. He's never hyperventilated before, he's never felt like this before in his life. Dan is blurred by tears, Phil's heart feels like it's about to leap from his chest, there's a shot of pain through his head, and without warning he falls onto his hands and knees on the ground, the cream coloured carpet the only thing preventing him from being hurt.

"Phil, it's okay." Dan says softly, but where did he even come from? Dan places his hand on Phil's back, rubbing it soothingly from his lower back to his right shoulder blade, "Everything is alright, I'm sorry, baby… I promise that it's all okay, but you need to tell me if you've taken anything so that I know how to help."

"I-I… haven't t-taken… anything…" Phil manages to get out as he gasps for breath,

"Alright," Dan nods even though the coal-haired man can't see him, "You're okay, Phil, just take deep breaths. Follow my breathing, okay?" Dan pulls Phil upright and takes hold of his hands, making eye contact and sucking in a deep breath, "In…" he inhales and Phil copies, "And out…" Dan speaks calmly as he exhales.

It takes a few minutes, but soon Phil doesn't feel so deprived of oxygen, though his mouth is dry and his head hurts. He can tell that his face is red and puffy but right now he doesn't care. The worst thing that could happen is that Dan realises how ugly he is after he cries and then breaks up with him, either way, Phil's not too fussed.

"You're okay, kitten," Dan gives a shy half-smile as he sits cross-legged on the bedroom floor and hands Phil a glass of water and two white pills. "It's just paracetamol," he says when Phil finds himself reluctant to take them, "You know I'm not an enabler," Dan chuckles as Phil swallows the painkillers, "I love you, and I'm never going to use your habits against you, but you know that I'm never going to encourage it or supply you with anything other than ways to help you."

"What just happened?" Phil asks in timid voice, why isn't Dan freaking out? What if Phil's had a heart attack or something and Dan's solution was to give him paracetamol? Dan's not that dumb… right?

"It was just an anxiety attack, just like you've had before."

I've had them before?" Phil asks without thinking, but instantly he realises that he can't let Dan know that there's something really wrong here, "I mean, yeah, I've had them before, that one was just…"

"Really bad? I could tell, honey. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out… Your anxiety has been pretty good lately, don't you think though? Like, just now, I had almost completely forgotten about it," Dan explains, "The past few weeks have been so good for you."

"Yeah…" Phil mumbles,

"I love you, baby," Dan smiles weakly and pulls Phil into an embrace, it's nice. He feels safe, and warm, and comfortable in Dan's arms, which is honestly something he never thought he'd think.

"You're incredible," murmurs Phil in disbelief, he had never imagined Dan being like this, caring about him and wanting to help him, loving him in spite of his problems. "I don't get why you do though, I just… I don't understand…"

"Because, Phil," Dan smiles, pushing sweat-dampened hair from Phil's eyes as he maneuvers himself to sit beside his blue eyed lover and wrap an arm around him, "You're amazing. You care about people, you… you cared about me even when I was horrible to you. It's like, looking back, you've always understood me. You're absolutely gorgeous, Philip Lester, you're loving and gentle, but you're also really fucking hot, and-"

"Okay, okay!" Phil laughs with a grin, shaking his head and moving closer into Dan's arms. "Thank you," he whispers and looks into Dan's eyes, "I'll get whatever help you think I need, Dan. I trust you better than I trust myself right now."

Staring into Phil's eyes, Dan can tell that he means it. He nods and quickly pecks Phil's lips, running his hand down Phil's arm, "We can talk about it next week and we'll sort it all out," he tells Phil.

"Next week?"

"Yeah, we have plans for dinner tonight, remember? Oh, and then my dad's coming with my step-mum tomorrow for my birthday… I didn't tell you this before, but um, I invited your dad and brother, I thought that maybe it would be nice to have them here… it's been a while, and we've only seen your dad twice since the funeral. It's been just over a year, and I know it's been rough for you, baby, but you're really recovering now and I think it might be good for you to see everyone again. I'm sure he misses you a lot, Phil. You and your brother are all he has left now that-"

"Dan…" Phil whimpers, "Please stop talking," he shakes his head, "Please stop, don't say any… any more, I just- I can't- I can't hear it…"

"Phil, you've been weird all day, are you alright? Has something else happened that's causing all of this, because I really don't understand? I thought that we sorted everything out after our fight last night, and you know… we had sex like normal, so I assumed you were fine… but, have I d-done something wrong? I'm really confused, and you're upset, and I'm trying not to cry but it's really hard, Phil…" Dan squeaks.

"I'm just… I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now."


	5. Chapter 5

Candles, dimmed lights, the sound of light chatter and the occasional clank of cutlery against crockery all work in harmony to create the romantic mood and setting of the restaurant. The ambience of it all somehow makes Phil feel as though perhaps he could love Dan, not the Dan of the present but this Dan. Future Dan.

After the morning's episode Dan had set Phil up in the living room with their dog, Susan, and put on the only TV show whose name he recognised on. He didn't want to have to live with the spoilers of TV shows that don't even exist yet. Eventually he'd calmed down and had time to tell himself that surely his mother isn't dead in this future, and if she is, he has time to make the most of life with her. There was a possibility that something would change along the lines anyway and prevent her premature death, but even still he didn't want to know the details.

At precisely half past five, Dan wandered in from the household's study and smiled while approaching hesitantly,

"Feel any better, sweetheart?" Dan asked, Phil nodded and stood up, much to Susan's disliking.

"We should probably get ready for tonight," Phil smiled back at him,

"I showered about an hour ago, so you go and do whatever it is you do in there to make yourself so handsome, and then we'll go," Dan chuckled.

It was when Phil had finished showering and getting dressed in the bathroom, quickly slipping the ring that Mr Wilder had located for him into his jacket pocket, that he realised for the first time that, perhaps, Dan could be the love of his life. He had opened the door of the bathroom and was about to round the corner into he and Dan's bedroom when he hear Dan's voice, Dan's almost sad and dejected voice…

"Has he said anything to you? Well, no, me either, but you're his best friend." Phil heard Dan say into his phone, "Lots of crying, he was just really, um… yeah. Weird. I think it might be the prescriptions again, but I checked all of his drawers and hiding spots and there's nothing there. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but it's just been all day, Chris…"

Taking a moment to process and relish in the fact that Phil is still friends with Chris in the future, he tuned back into Dan's conversation.

"Do you think- do you think that maybe he's going break up with me tonight?" Dan whispered, his voice cracking slightly, "B-because… I just… I can't live without him, Chris. I love him so much and I thought that he loved me… he hasn't even said it to me all day, and normally he's told me about a hundred times before midday…"

Sitting in his seat across from Dan, Phil leans in, trying his best not to feel guilty about what he had heard earlier in the evening, he's determined to make this right. If not for his future self, but for Dan's future self.

"Dan," Phil starts, and Dan's eyes flick up to meet his, filled with both excitement and expectation, both probably hiding the fear Phil believes dwells behind them, "Daniel, I um… I appreciate everything you've ever done for me, and even right now I'm still in awe of how far you've come, and I'm honestly so proud. I remember the first time we met, when your mum left you at school on our first day and you were in tears, and I remember how you asked why I had no friends," Phil chuckles, and Dan beams a stunning smile with his dimples on display. "And I remember in primary school when you poured orange cordial on me, and the time you told everyone that if they played with me they would get ugly germs. I remember in high school when you made every day a living hell for me, shoving me into the girl's bathroom, telling our year advisor that you felt uncomfortable with "someone like me" using the guys bathroom because I was born a girl, and then you laughing at me when my mum had to bring in my birth certificate to prove my sex. I remember you 'accidentally' elbowing me in the face during P.E, and most of all, I remember the day we started getting along…" Phil tells the puppy-dog-eyed man before him, hoping that his date would fill in the details of his last declaration because, unfortunately, in his present life he hasn't quite come across a day where he and Dan have gotten along.

"I am so sorry about all of those things! I was horrible, and offensive, and just… I'm sorry! But that day when that weird substitute made us project partners for history was a huge turning point for me. I'd had the worst day of my life, and you just… you knew exactly what I needed to hear, and you promised me that it would all be okay. I wanted to hate you, but I just… couldn't," Dan sniffles, wiping a tear away from his eye, "You were so nice to me, Phil."

"Yeah," he smiles, "I'm just in awe of where we are now, with the exception of this morning and my weird melt down, we're amazing. We are so amazing, and you are so amazing, and I'm- I'm shocked. I love it all. I love everything about this, and us, and… and you. I love you, Dan," Phil says, barely believing that the words are leaving his mouth as he pulls the ring from his jacket pocket, "I want us to be like this forever. This, you, us, it's all that I want for the future, I want to look forward to spending every day of my future with you knowing that it's going to happen. I want you to know that I love you, and that you're loved. I want nothing but the best for you, and I sincerely hope that I can be that for you. Daniel Whatever-your-middle-name-is Howell, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Dan exclaims, his dimples prominent as a result of his wide, truly happy smile. "Yes!" Phil gently slips the silver band onto Dan's finger, observing the individual square diamonds embedded in the metal at each quarter. "Did you seriously just forget my middle name?" Dan suddenly chuckles, "I guess that's okay, I get that it's a high pressure situation. Jesus, Phil… This ring is incredible!" the brown haired man notes. It's a beautiful ring, if Phil does say so himself. "We'll have to go and pick one out for you too," Dan notes, "I want everyone to know that you're taken," he smirks, leaning across the table and pecking Phil on the lips. Phil leans across further to deepen the kiss for a brief moment, closing his eyes and feeling Dan's fingers entwining with his own as he tastes the inside of Dan's mouth.

And then he doesn't feel anything and he finds himself alone, seated in Mr Wilder's office.

"Ah, Philip, good evening was it?" Mr Wilder greets as he enters through a door that Phil doesn't remember ever being there before, "Now you must remember, you can't repeat any of what you heard or saw during your time in the future to anyone, of course you can use your knowledge, but you cannot warn anyone."

"I'm engaged to Dan Howell," Phil says in utter disbelief.

"Yes, that you are," Wilder agrees, "Any other observations?"

"My mum is going to die," Phil says, this time he sounds angry more so than as if the fact was a simple reflection.

"Technically, you always knew that was going to happen."

"Technically, no. I didn't. If you had asked me last week, I would have told you that my parents were going to live forever!"

"That's a silly thing to believe."

"No, it isn't! I don't want to lose my mum, and I don't care what the consequences are, I'm going to do whatever I can to stop it," Phil argues.

"How does she die, Philip?" Wilder asks instead of pursuing the argument, and it catches Phil by surprise. He doesn't know.

"She- she… I don't care. I'm going to prevent everything!"

"You're thinking highly irrationally," the bearded man points out, Phil shoots him a glare and rises from his seat, heading out the door, but before he closes it he speaks again.

"You know what else is irrational? To think that you can tell someone that their mother is going to die in a few short years and then expect them not to want to do something about it! I don't want to talk about this again until it's on my terms, do you understand me, old man?"

"I understand," Mr Wilder nods respectfully before receiving a small gust of wind that ruffles his paper as a result of the slammed door.


	6. Chapter 6

Weeks. It has been weeks since Mr Wilder has shown up anywhere to surprise Phil and take him on some crazy journey through time, and while Phil was actually somewhat relieved at first, now it just means that he's constantly on edge, anticipating the appearance of the older man and his words of wisdom. Well, Phil figures, at least he can live a relatively normal life in the meantime.

Entering his Maths classroom, he looks around the room, he's the first one there. Phil takes his usual seat, pulling out his phone to entertain himself until everyone else arrives, and soon enough they do. For several minutes the classroom is filled with light chatter between friends and eventually, after about twelve minutes, not that Phil's counting, after the last of the students file into the naturally lit room, the teacher enters too, closing the door behind him. His short blond hair precisely messy, an oxymoron that makes perfect sense in regard to the maths teacher, his bright green eyes shining as he smiles to greet the class. Mr Miller is gorgeous. It's unanimously agreed amongst practically every female student and even a handful of boys that honestly just cannot deny how attractive the young teacher is. Phil has always subtly lusted after him despite knowing that it would never happen. It felt more comfortable for Phil knowing that his teacher would never like him back.

"Jacinta Harvey?" Mr Miller calls out, checking the roll for attendance,

"Here!" the olive skinned girl responds to her name,

"Ben Haberfield?"

"Yes, sir."

"Zowe Hamärä?" the teacher looks around the room,

"Here, sir!" a beautiful dark skinned girl beams from the back of the room, Phil has to admit that she is quite possibly one of the most attractive girls he's ever met. Not only is she pretty, but she's smart and enjoys the same kinds of TV shows as him. If she weren't already dating a boy in the grade above, he would probably ask her out.

"Dan Howell?" Nothing. "Dan? Does anyone know where Daniel is?" No one answers, not even Dan's pack of friends. Mr Miller sighs, "Alright then, is Melissa Jacobs here?"

"Yeah," another girl smiles from beside Zowe, but Phil isn't listening anymore. He's wondering where Dan is. He knows Dan was at school earlier today, and he never misses maths, so where could be possibly be?

"Alright, guys," Mr Miller exhales after taking attendance, "We're going to be reviewing some of the basic algebra from last year before we go into more depth."

Forty-five minutes later and Phil's maths class is shuffling out of the room in a crowded fashion and he's on his way to history. Truth be told, he'd always loved history at school until Mr Wilder had shown up, the arrival of Mr Wilder as his substitute teacher was rather unwelcome, but he's right back on track with his love for the past now that the crazy psychic had disappeared again. With a smile on his face he walks into the room and, surprisingly, he's not the first one in there. Sitting at the back of the classroom is Dan, red-eyed and attempting to keep a low profile, and at the teacher's desk is- no. No. No!

"Philip! Lovely to see you again," the teacher greets him, Phil rolls his eyes and feels quite tempted to sink into the ground with a loud moan.

"Mr Wilder? What're you doing back here?" Phil asks, the bearded older man just smirks,

"Dan was in here before I was. I believe he skipped your last class, no?" Wilder begins, Phil silently confirms.

"I heard a couple people say he was getting stoned in the bathroom," he shrugs, "By the looks of him they weren't lying. Look, Mr Wilder, I don't care what happened, or is going to happen in the-" Phil attempts to inform him in hushed tones.

"Don't you think you're being a little quick to write him off?" Wilder cuts him off, and Phil's eyes immediately dart toward the red-eyed boy at the back of the room before they drift back to meet Wilder's.

"He is literally sitting in the back of this room, stoned."

"Or perhaps he isn't."

"Look at him!" Phil whispers angrily, "Can you not see him right now?!"

"What have you seen, Phil?" Mr Wilder confronts him, "Did you see him taking drugs?"

"Well, no… but-"

"But you haven't seen the whole picture, have you?"

"Oh god, no," Phil kneads his right palm with his left hand, "Not this again!"

"Come on, Philip," Mr Wilder says, "It's a learning experience."

"Richard Kantor?" Mr Miller calls, and Phil looks around the room. Dan's here. Phil's shirt isn't the shirt that he put on this morning and, judging by the date in the top right hand corner of the page open in his notebook it's only three weeks ago. What would anything that happened three weeks ago have to do with Dan getting stoned during maths?

"No Richard today?" Miller asks the class, when there's no response he continues, "Philip Lester?"

"Y-yeah, yes, I'm here," Phil answers, flustered and a still a little disorientated.

"Are you alright, Phil?" he asks, Phil nods and calls the rest of the names in the class. Once everyone is confirmed present and accounted for, Miller puts down his papers and scans the classroom, "Alright. Mr Howell, can I see you outside?"

"Yes, sir," Dan sighs, reluctantly following the young maths teacher just outside the classroom, despite his body language though, Phil does catch Dan's smile as he exit's the room. Why would he be smiling?

When lunch finally arrives, having taken longer than it should have due to the circumstances and time travel and such, allowing Phil to take a break and go on a search for Chris. On his way to the back of the oval he passes a casual game of football, supervised by Mr Miller and being played by the vast majority of students in Phil's classes. He spots Chris sitting at the back of the oval with another boy named PJ that Chris's had a crush on for months – the only problem with that is that Phil would bet good money that PJ is strictly into girls. Phil shrugs the thought off and he's about to wander over and interrupt when he spots Dan standing by a tree and watching the soccer game alone. He decides to head over there instead because, well, if Phil's going to be marrying Dan in seven years then he may as well go and keep him company… even if he is still a complete asshole.

Except before he can even take a step toward him, Mr Miller beats him to it. Some other random teacher has taken over supervising the football game now, and Dan and Mr Miller are walking off somewhere. Dan can't really be doing so badly in maths, can he? Phil can just _sense_ that something is wrong, so he follows. How hadn't he noticed any of this the first time around? Sure, he hadn't been looking for anything, but now it was all so obvious. Last time he lived this day he'd just gone about his business and intruded on Chris and PJ's conversation, one that he's not too interested in participating in again anyway.

Phil slinks around the corner of the school's F block, silently following the pair until Miller pulls out a key and unlocks one of the unused classrooms before the two of them walk in. Then the door closes. Something is seriously wrong, but there's nothing Phil can be certain of, for all he knows there's a parent-teacher interview going on in there, or a couple of other students or teachers. Maybe there's a secret club for people that- wait, what's Dan even good enough at for there to be a secret club dedicated to it? Does he paint miniatures or something? Reluctantly, Phil takes a few steps forward and peers into the window of the classroom, hoping to whatever gods may be out there that it's not what he thinks it is.

There are only two people in the classroom. They're alone, but as far as Phil can see there's nothing really going on except- scratch that! He's kissing him! Mr Miller, a TEACHER, is making out with Dan Howell, a fifteen year old boy! This is sick. Phil feels sick, but he knows why he's here, and it's to watch, not to change. Dan may be a complete jerk, but no one deserves to be taken advantage of like this. Phil peers back in the window of the otherwise empty classroom, now Miller's undressing Dan, and Phil can't watch. Dan is about to do who-knows-what with this perverted man and- wait, is that why Dan was so upset at school before Phil was sent back here? Did they have a fight? Did they break up? Did Mr Miller force Dan to do something that he didn't want to do? _Dan_ , Phil thinks as he takes a deep breath, _what is he going to do to you?_

"You can't stop it," Mr Wilder's voice comes from behind, "This is something that is destined to be."

"There's got to be something I can do," Phil trembles, looking away from the scene in the window, "Dan's a kid, this is illegal!"

"I'm well aware of that," Mr Wilder sighs and Phil turns his vision back to the inside of the classroom, "And I'm terribly sorry for the fact that this has to happen, but you know that Dan will be okay. You've seen it."

"What about Mr Miller? Is he just going to get away with this?" Phil asks, but there's no response, turning around, he realises that Mr Wilder is gone once more. It's infuriating, Phil decides, this whole nonsense with the cryptic answers, and the time travel, and his disappearing psychic-slash-travel guide.

Tearing himself away from the building as a whole, Phil walks himself back down to the school's oval, and he can't help but wonder who else may be a victim of Mr Miller, this is a school full of hundreds of students, who knows how many this has happened to other than Dan. It hurts Phil to think about it, truly, especially after Phil had told the Dan of the future that he loves him, and somehow, in some unexplainable way, meant it. To be honest, Phil isn't in love with this Dan, but he knows that he will be and he does care about him. More than anything right now though, Phil wants to protect him.

He takes a sharp turn into the last classroom he was in before being dismissed for lunch, hoping to find his school bag and phone, but as he passes the threshold of the door he doesn't enter an empty classroom, instead he walks into the same room as he had earlier, the only other people in the room are Mr Wilder and a red-eyed Dan sitting in the back of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Ah, Mr Lester, have we had a productive day?" Wilder greets him this time, and Phil angrily marches up to him, whispering sharply toward the older man.

"How, in any sense of the word, was that productive? I still don't know what happened with Dan, and I don't know if I'm seeing things about of context, or what?! Am I supposed to assume that Dan's been upset because of Mr Miller, or is that something different and another lesson in looking at the whole picture before making any confrontations? Is this all a trick question? Is this even a question? I don't even know what's what anymore!" Phil's hushed voice says.

"Well done, Philip, you're learning," the psychic-turned-substitute-teacher-imposter smirks, "But the answer to that question is one that you're going to have to find yourself. I'm here to lead you to the answers, help you find them, and teach you how to find them in the process, but I'm not here to give you all the answers."

"Great," Phil rolls his eyes, heading toward his regular seat,

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To sit down?" Phil sighs,

"No, no," Mr Wilder smiles, "Stay right here. We're assigning pairs for the semester assignment today. Don't worry about him," he gestures at Dan, "He'll join us down here when the rest of the class is here. I've already spoken to him."

"Once again, great," Phil answers sarcastically.

Of course. Of course Phil had to get paired with Dan, the Dan of the future had told him this was what was going to happen; not only that, but his apparently-long-term-substitute teacher is Mr Wilder, and Mr Wilder really only has one thing in mind for Phil, and that is Dan.

Sitting in the quiet of the outdoors while most other students are in class serves as peaceful as the two of them sit with their backs against the brick of the library where the rest of their class is working on their own assessments. Of course Mr Wilder hadn't minded when Dan and Phil had requested to take their studies outside.

"So um, the Terracotta Army…" Phil tries to introduce, but Dan just looks up and glares at him like it's the most obvious thing in the word that he doesn't want to participate.

Flipping open the assignment sheet, Phil begins to read out the questions for their task.

"Okay, so the first question is about where they are, discussing where they were found and how the surrounding environment played a part in their past. So where exactly were they found?"

"In Terracotta?" Dan attempts quietly with a gentle shrug,

"In China, but they're made out of terracotta and that's why they're called the Terracotta Warriors."

"Oh. Yeah, right. Isn't terracotta what pots are made out of?" Dan asks after a moment, and Phil nods, "I'm pretty sure my mum had a lot of terracotta pots when I was a kid."

"Yeah, I think I have some in my back garden," Phil notes.

Phil takes a moment to pretend to scan the assessment sheet, shocked by how Dan's attitude isn't as show-off-y or mean as usual. Phil decides to assume that Dan is not, in fact, high, and that something's happened to make him upset instead. Thinking back, it seems only logical that it's something to do with Mr Miller. First they hook up, for how long or how many times is something Phil doesn't know, and he's not sure he wants to, but then Dan doesn't show up to class and the next time he's seen by anyone he looks like he's been crying and even now looks like the slightest thing could set him off into a spiral of despair.

"It gets easier, you know?" Phil notes softly,

"The assessment? Because I've read the questions and they only get more and more complex, unless you think you're some kind of super genius or something."

"No, I don't mean the stupid hollow-pot-men," Phil tilts his head and looks at Dan as if in disbelief of his cluelessness.

"Then what, Philip Lester, are you talking about, because I'm really not in the mood to have some homo-loser blabber on about some stupid crap," Dan quips, and Phil smiles. This is the Dan he's used to. Homophobic slur slinging Dan.

"I'm not even gay," Phil laughs and shakes his head in amusement, "What I'm talking about is all this," he says gesturing to Dan's face, "I know you weren't doing weed or something in the bathroom, you're not stupid. You know you'd get caught. I'm just saying, breaks ups are hard, but it get easier and it gets better," Phil assures him, hoping that his guess of Miller having broken up with him is right.

"I'm so stupid…" Dan whispers suddenly, dropping his head to look at the white concrete he's sitting on, the boy's demeanour has changed entirely. Apparently Phil's guess is spot on.

"You're not stupid, you're fifteen years old. We all do less than smart things at this age, we're teenagers; it's what we do. It's not your fault, Dan. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I know it's something that right now you feel like you can't tell anyone, but-"

"If I say anything… I don't even know what'll happen. I just can't."

"That's okay too, you don't have to. I just want you to know that in ten years you'll be happy. Things'll be good and you'll be in love with someone that's in love with you and would never, never, take advantage of you the way he did…" Phil says quietly, and Dan's head pops up.

"H-how… how did you know that it was a…?" Dan fumbles, and Phil takes in a deep breath,

"I want to say that it's because of the look on your face when you start up with the homophobic garbage you're always spewing, but if I'm honest, I didn't notice that until just now. It's alright if you're attracted to guys, Dan. It's not a bad thing, liking the same gender isn't inherently bad."

"I'm not gay."

"Neither am I."

"Then what are you, because you know that I saw you kiss that Chris Kendall guy?" Dan asks.

"That was a mistake, Chris and I are just friends," Phil laughs, "I was still figuring myself out, you know? I'm pansexual, but I didn't know that then."

"What even is that?"

"It means that I'm attracted to pans, and also pots. I'm not entirely opposed to dating other kitchenware though, I'm inclusive," he laughs as Dan looks at him with irritated eyes, "I'm kidding."

"I know."

"It means that I'm attracted to all genders, or lack of gender, like, not just men and women, any and all genders," Phil explains, "I hope that makes sense."

"So you don't see gender?" Dan asks, surprising Phil with the lack of ridicule.

"No, I see gender," he laughs, "I definitely see gender, it just means that I'm attracted to people regardless of what their gender, or even if they don't have a gender."

"That's kind of weird."

"I like that about myself though. I like my sexuality, and I wish that all people were able to like theirs. It's horrible that some people don't feel safe enough, or legitimately aren't safe enough, to be themselves," Phil sighs.

"If I ever came out as anything, my mum would have killed me," Dan breathes and then lets out a short chortle. Phil looks down at his hands for a brief moment, "Alright, enough about whatever it is we're talking about. What about you? You get to hound me about my issue, now I get to hound you."

"Ha, ha, what?" Phil chuckles, looking back up at his project partner, "What are you going to 'hound' me about then?"

"When I said my mum would kill me you looked down. Does your mum not approve of you being into kitchenware, then?"

"What? No," Phil defends, "My mum is happy as long as I am, and I'm so thankful for that."

"Then what is it?" Dan asks, and for what's probably the first time since that first day in kindergarten, his tone isn't mischievous or spiteful.

Phil sighs shortly, this isn't something he would tell Chris. This isn't something he could tell anyone else, but he knows that there will be a day when he can trust Dan with his life, so he gives it up, "My mum is going to die."

"Oh my god…" Dan says, hushed slightly by his own hand covering his mouth in shock, "Phil, I'm really sorry, I had no idea…"

"That's because no one else knows. Just I; not even she, or my dad, or my brother, and I can't tell any of them."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, I can't get into how. She's going to be gone before I'm even twenty-three. She's going to miss our… _my_ wedding. I'm going to miss her, and I don't want her to die…" Phil confesses, holding back tears, "I don't know when or how, and I feel so horrible because there's nothing I can do to change it."

If he's being honest, Phil is somewhat shocked by the fact that Dan hasn't started poking fun at Phil's concerns, but after a moment of quiet his shock is alleviated by the sudden recollection of why Dan seems sensitive to the subject.

"Well, um… when my mum died, you remember, it wasn't, um… great," Dan begins, "But I got through it."

"You turned into even more of a jerk," Phil points out without care, and Dan frowns.

"I'm pretty horrible to a lot of people."

"Namely me."

"Namely you… even after everything you did for me."

"I remember your mum," Phil says after a comfortable minute of silence, and Dan smiles, looking him in the eye. Neither of them had intended for the conversation to sway so far, but each of them are secretly glad that it had.

Phil does remember Dan's mum. He remembers her from the first time Phil met Dan, and he remembers her from the school functions she would occasionally show up to. She mostly stuck out because while everyone else was wearing mum-jeans she was wearing stilettos and some variation of a pencil-skirt, blouse, and matching suit-like jacket. She was a very attractive woman, not that Phil would ever say that out loud, and she had a tendency to be quite loud and demanding. What Phil remembers most though is what happened when she died.

"Anyway," Dan clears his throat, "The bell's about to ring and I've gotta get home."

"Yeah, me too," Phil lies, "See-ya later," he says as Dan picks up his things and heads into the library to grab whatever it was he had left inside. Just as quickly, Phil throws his stuff into his school bag and heads down toward the front of the school and into the front office.

It was weird, Phil thought. This is the first time in years that the two of them have been nice to each other, let alone have a full-blown conversation. Phil seems to be finding that he really does care about Dan, and that's why he has to do this.

He'd spent all of third period in the library writing this out and up until now he wasn't sure whether or not to go through with doing anything with it, but now he knows that he doesn't have a choice. What Mr Miller is doing with Dan, and possibly other students, _younger_ students, is sick, and wrong, and Phil refuses to stand by and let it continue.

The second that he's made his way to the school's office, he pulls the folded piece of lined paper from his back pocket and checks that no one is around. Once he's sure he's alone, he quickly slides the paper under the door of the deputy principal's office. Then he runs.


	8. Chapter 8

Mr Miller hasn't shown up to class today. Phil watches intensely as all of the students shuffle in, noting in particular the look of pure anxiety resting on Dan's face, a look that intensifies when Mrs Harris, the year 12 maths teacher, enters the room in place of Miller and promptly calls Dan's full name as she glances around the room.

"Yeah?" Dan asks in response, and she looks at him with pitying eyes and a weak smile,

"And Philip Lester?" she middle aged woman calls from her small piece of paper. Phil raises his hand and she nods, "Alright, I need you two boys to head down to the front office and see Mrs Porter. Just let her know that Mr Rodrigues and Ms Phere are waiting for you."

Phil knows what is happening, but Dan's eyes flick to Phil in a flash, unsure, yet still nervous of whatever's going on, but he won't dare ask, and Phil knows that. Not in front of the class, at least. Their classmates can just believe that they're in trouble for arguing again, it wouldn't be the first time they'd been pulled out by the deputy principal and the principal herself. Dan takes in a deep breath as he and Phil leave the room, it seems that Dan just can't recall what may have happened to get them in trouble. He suspects that it may have something to do with Mr Miller, but if that's the case, why is Phil being brought in too? Is Phil dating him too?

Once the pair of them are sitting in the office's reception area, a quiet and currently isolated space, Dan clears his throat.

"Did we do something? Like, I'm pretty sure that this is the smoothest we've ever gotten along and now here we are," he forces a chuckle.

"I don't think we're in trouble," Phil answers truthfully,

"Can I ask you something?" Dan whispers, obviously unsettled, "Do you-"

"Ah," the deputy principal, Mr Rodrigues, interrupts, "Thank you for joining us, boys. We're just in the meeting room round the corner," he says, pointing in the direction of the room. Dan wishes that he would just cut to the chase and tell them what's going on, but he's not in luck.

The second Phil steps into the room behind Dan, he's greeted by the sight of their principal , the deputy principal that walked them in, the school counsellor, and he and Dan's parents, Phil's mum and Dan's dad. This isn't good. This isn't good at all.

"Just take a seat boys," Ms Phere smiles, and the second they sit down, exchanging brief and concerned looks between them, she continues. "Now, I just want to fill you two in and let you know what's happening and then Mrs Lester and Mr Howell will be going down the hall for a little bit while we talk, sound alright?"

"Y-yeah…" Dan stammers,

"Okay," Phil nods quietly.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Ms Phere answers, "Now, you two have met Miss Anderson before, yes? She's the school counsellor and she's going to be helping us today. Some very serious allegations have been made against one of the teachers here and so we've had to have a chat with your parents here," she speaks, gesturing toward the worried pair of parents sitting by the door, "And now we want to hear from the two of you. So Mr Howell and Mrs Lester, could you give us a moment please?"

Silently, the parents leave, Phils mum stopping briefly for a moment to quickly lay her hand on his shoulder for support and shooting Dan a supportive smile before following Dan's dad out the door. Then the two boys are alone with the principal, deputy, and school counsellor.

"We received a notification of, and a statement about, a teacher having an inappropriate relationship with a student, or students, yesterday. While we're unsure of how long this has been going on, we have come to believe that this alleged relationship has carried on for an extended amount of time," Ms Phere states.

"We're very aware of how distressing this situation must be, but we want the both of you to know that this is a safe place and that we are set on doing whatever we can to make all of our students are safe here at school," Miss Anderson says with a supportive smile, "And that includes you."

"In the statement we received," Mr Rodrigues continues as Phil pretends that he doesn't already know all about it, "The student whom is, or was, allegedly a target of this teacher, is you, Daniel. Now, the reason you, Philip, are here is because, despite the statement having no mention of you, we believe we have other evidence that suggests that you may also be a target of this inappropriate behaviour. We've asked you two here today to give us whatever information you can, including statements of your own, about what's been going on."

"We understand how scary or difficult this all may be, but we want you to know that even if you did participate in any of this behaviour, you are not in any trouble at all. The only person at fault here is the teacher in question," Miss Anderson finishes.

"Why are you asking us together? Why aren't we being asked separately?" Phil asks quickly, and Dan turns to look at him with utter panic painted across his face.

"Because, Mr Lester," Mrs Phere answers, "The two of you have a history of conflict. If the two of you are questioned separately there leaves room for the two of you to take this up on the playground, and we can't have that. This is something else we're concerned about. We're concerned that, perhaps, your prior conflict may have been caused by one, or both, of you becoming aware of the other person's relationship with said teacher, prompting your fights and arguments here at school."

"You think that we've been fighting all this time over jealousy? Mr Miller hasn't even been here for more than four years," Phil points out, "We've been at each other since primary school!"

"Yeah, so we've hated each other for a long time before he was around," Dan confirms, "I don't have anything to be jealous of anyway," he lies with a frown.

"So the two of you confirm that you're aware of which teacher is in question here, then?" Ms Phere asks, and the two of them stop in their tracks, Dan even taking his hand and covering his mouth.

"N-n-no, I meant that…" Dan stutters, but then he just shakes his head and turns to Phil angrily. "You have everything! Everything! I don't get why you would need to try take him away from me anyway, because everything is just so… so _perfect_ in your life!"

"Me? I didn't take him away from you! It's not my fault he broke up with you, believe me, it's not, Dan. My life isn't perfect, not in the slightest, but I would never do something to just to hurt you!" Phil exclaims, causing the group of school faculty in the room to shoot the two of them a look to calm down.

"How else would you know about Mr Miller, and the break up, and why else would you be here?! I thought- I thought that maybe you weren't so bad, but this just proves that I was right all along!" Dan yells, and Phil is taken aback.

"I knew about Mr Miller because I saw you two in a classroom together! Yeah, I saw a bit more than I wanted, believe me. I knew about the break up because you were obviously upset, and quite frankly, I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I don't know where you get this idea of me being the bad guy, either! I've spent every single day of my life dreading coming to school or anywhere else you might be because you are so goddamn horrible to me, Dan! You said so yourself yesterday! You spend your time taunting me and throwing whatever homophobic slur you can think of at me, all the while you've, hypercritically, been with a guy this whole time anyway!"

"Then why are you here!? Why are they saying they know that you've been with him too!?" Dan demands, pointing at the adults in the room whom are yet to intervene because, for whatever reason, they must believe that this is a safer outlet than if there were no teachers around.

Phil shakes his head gently, "I'm here because I'm the one that left that stupid statement about you and Mr Miller! I was worried about you, Dan! I was worried because what he's been doing is wrong, and it's sick, and I left it for a while, but the second you were upset because of him I decided it was the time to tell someone that could help! Someone must've seen me drop it off because I tried to do it anonymously."

"Why didn't we get these two together to work things out sooner?" Ms Phere asks Miss Anderson out of earshot of the arguing teenage boys in front of them, "Clearly they have a lot of issues with each other."

"Phil," Dan continues, "You always get whatever you want! Your parents love you, you have a family that's always there for you, reliable friends, and you're smart! I'm not smart, Phil, I have to work really goddamn hard just to avoid failing entirely, my friends are horrible, and I have a single parent that's barely around since my mum fucking killed herself! Your life is so fucking easy, and you had to go and take the one good thing I had away from me! Because of this, he'll never want me back! He'll hate me!"

"You didn't have him anymore! He broke up with you, do you want to know why? It's not because of me, it's because you're getting too old for him! He's a paedophile, Daniel! What would I even gain from 'taking him away from you' anyway? My life isn't easy Dan, and ruining yours certainly isn't on my agenda! I'm sorry that things are hard for you, and I'm sorry that things are hard since your mum killed herself, but truth be told, because of how you make me feel every single day that I'm around you, I'm considering the same damn thing myself!" Phil confesses with a crack in his voice as tears begin to fall from his eyes, "I'm sorry that things are hard for you, Dan, but they're hard for me too!"

"Philip," Miss Anderson intervenes in a calm, quiet voice as Dan seems to have ceased speaking altogether, possibly from shock, "What you've just said is something very serious, do you understand that?"

"Yes," he answers almost inaudibly.

"I'm so sorry…" Dan squeaks, "Phil, I'm…"

"I know, I forgive you, and it's not your fault, not really…" Phil looks at him sadly, "I'm sorry. I don't want to blame you, and I don't want to fight with you…"

"I don't want to either," Dan tells Phil, his eyes darting from feature to feature on Phil's face, "You're not like I thought you were, and I'm sorry."

"Phil," Miss Anderson pipes up, "We're going to have to have a little chat tomorrow after lunch, is that alright with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Mr Rodrigues breathes, "Daniel, we need you to write out your statement, can you do that for us?"

"Is he going to be arrested?" Dan asks in a small voice,

"It's most likely," Ms Phere answers, and Dan's eyes flick downward, observing the stained wood as he takes the piece of paper from her hand with a tremble of a nod.

"I knew something was wrong," Phil's mother whispers as she sits before Phil and his father in the living room, her head is resting in her hands before she slowly looks up at Phil, "The past few weeks you've been different. You've been sitting with me in the lounge more instead of hiding out in your room, and you've been hugging me a lot more… it was your way of silently asking for help and I just didn't see it… I'm so sorry I let this happen, Phil! I'm a terrible mother…"

"Mum, no! I told you, nothing happened with me! You're not a terrible mother, you're the best mother I've ever met," Phil assures her with a smile, "I was doing those things because I love you and I want to spend time with you… Really, mum, I'm fine, I promise."

"We're proud of you for doing something about it, Phil. We know that you and Daniel haven't gotten on before in the past, and we all know that that certainly wasn't our first meeting where we've encountered Daniel's parent's, so we're glad that you've come forward to help him," Phil's dad explains, Phil doesn't answer him back with anything more than a nod.

"I love you so much, okay sweetie?" his mum says, reaching across and hugging him tightly for a brief moment.

"I love you too," Phil whispers, embracing her tightly. He can't help it. He knows that she won't be around forever, and that too soon he is going to lose her. If he had it his way, he would never let go in order to protect her from whatever it is that causes her death.

After spending another twenty-five minutes downstairs with his parents, Phil is able to escape to his bedroom and fall face first onto his bed. Just about ready to fall asleep early, he's suddenly disturbed and jolted fully awake by the familiar sound of his phone vibrating and an unfamiliar number reading across the screen. He dithers for a moment in consideration of whether or not he should answer it or simply roll over and fall asleep, but decides to answer it. Maybe it's someone important.

"Hello?" Phil answers groggily,

"Hey, it's Dan…"

"Oh. Hi."

"I'm really sorry about today, and um… every other day," Dan's voice echoes through the phone, ending with an embarrassed chuckle.

"I'm sorry too," Phil nods even though he knows Dan can't see it.

"I uh- I… none of my friends know about me and Ja- I mean, Mr Miller. They don't know that I'm, um…"

"Not gay?" Phil finishes Dan's sentence with a short but kind laugh.

"Yeah, that." Dan laughs back, but his tone quickly changes to one much grimmer, "Um, with what you said today… I know you were serious, and I'm so sorry that I've made you feel that way… Jesus, Phil… I don't even know what happened with us. I don't know when or why I started being so horrible to you, and I don't really have a choice but to admit it now, but I was jealous of you. I am jealous of you."

"Thanks, I do forgive you, and I just want you to know that I don't hate you and that you're not a bad person," Phil tells him quietly, "I just don't understand what there is to be jealous of."

"I think it was more just a matter of me hating myself and taking it out on you because you're probably the only person I've ever met that wouldn't just turn around and punch me in the face. In all seriousness though, it probably had nothing to do with you, it was all me and I know that, and I'm sorry…"

"I get it, I really do. It's tough, but at least you're aware of it now, huh?"

Dan lets out a deep sigh and Phil swears he can hear the heartbreak in it, "I just want to be normal, Phil…"

"Who says you're not normal, and who says there's anything wrong with not being whatever 'normal' is anyway?"

"You know what I mean," Dan exhales again, "I don't want to stand out in a way that makes me different from everyone else. I don't want people to look at me and judge me, or treat me like I've been treating you, I don't want that pressure. I just want to be normal."

"Well if that's what normal is, then clearly normalness leads sadness, because look at how you're feeling now. That's how 'normal' makes you feel. Be yourself, because that's normal. That's your normal, because normal is relative and different for everyone," Phil explains, hearing Dan take a shuddery breath on the other end of the line.

"Yeah." Dan murmurs, "Yeah, you're right."

"What I've found is that the people that dedicate themselves to tearing you down are often insecure about what they're targeting you for. Of course, it's hard to remember that when you're standing in front of them and trying not to cry, but it reminds me that we're all human and that one day they might understand and feel sorry for what they're saying and doing to people now. Sometimes that's enough for me, you know?"

"Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah?"

"That time on school camp last year, when we were roomed together, I know that I said that I was pissed off because I wanted to be roomed with someone that's not… you, but I'm glad it was you," Dan confesses, "I don't think I would have wanted anyone else there."

"I know," Phil smiles sadly to himself, "I'm glad I was able to be there for you."

"You never said anything to anyone, even when we went straight back to practically hating each other as soon as we all got back to school," Dan recounts, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So yeah, um, thanks, and sorry, and goodnight," Dan draws their conversation to a conclusion,

"You're welcome, I forgive you, I'm sorry too, and goodnight," Phil chuckles, "Everything is gonna be okay."

"Thanks," Dan whispers, "Night."


	9. Chapter 9

It's been a long day for Phil up until this point. Despite getting a decent night's sleep he still woke up feeling as if he'd been awake for three days straight. Eating breakfast in the kitchen was a mission in itself because his mother refused to stop asking him if he was okay every ten minutes and his brother, Martyn, insisted on making Phil feel uncomfortable, as only a brother can, the second their mother had left for work.

"So Mr Miller's leaving?" Martyn asked despite being well aware of the answers to all of the questions he was yet to ask, "Only you could get a teacher fired," he had joked. Phil doesn't think it was funny, and even though Martyn is two years older than him, Phil thinks that perhaps he doesn't quite understand the seriousness of the situation.

School was… well, it was school, wasn't it? Chris had a lot of questions that Phil couldn't give him the answers to, he couldn't tell anyone else about Dan and Mr Miller, not even his best friend, and so Chris got angry with him and decided to hang out with his new friend, PJ, instead. They haven't spoken since then, during second period, but Phil knows that by tomorrow they'll be fine.

Phil passed by Dan a few times throughout the day, surprisingly the brown haired boy smiled back at him today. During lunch, when Chris was avoiding Phil like the bubonic plague, Dan sat next to Phil, backs against the back fence of the school oval. He'd asked Phil how he was coping, and Phil asked Dan something similar after confiding in him that he was nervous about having to talk to the school counsellor after lunch.

And now here he is, sitting in the school counsellor's office instead of his maths class. At this point, after everything else that's happened today, Phil is about ready to chuck it all in and just walk out rather than be forced to answer some pretty probing questions. He knows that it's going to be awkward and uncomfortable, and he knows that if he slips up and says the wrong thing the school will call his parents and tell them something ridiculous like, "IF YOU DON'T COME DOWN TO THE SCHOOL RIGHT NOW YOUR SON IS GOING TO KILL HIMSELF!" and quite frankly, that's the last thing he needs, his parents thinking he's suicidal or something.

It's not that Phil hasn't ever considered taking the plunge into the unknown that is often referred to as the afterlife, because in all honesty, he has, but it's more a matter of his concerning thoughts being just that, thoughts. He's considered it and he knows that it's not something that's going to happen, he could never do that to the people he loves.

"Hi Phil," Miss Anderson smiles sweetly, Phil smiles back. She's an attractive young woman with long, thick, blonde hair and perfectly straight, white teeth. Her blue eyes have a knack for stealing the attention of anyone that happens to glimpse at her face, and the few brown freckles that dot her neck look like the finishing touches of ink from God's felt-tip pen; at least that's what Phil imagines Miss Anderson's girlfriend must think. "Now, before we get started, I just need to let you know that everything we talk about stays between you and me, unless of course you make it known that you've engaged in a significant crime or that you intend to cause harm to yourself or others. In that case I need to make a report and tell some of the other people here at school, do you understand?" Phil nods and she smiles. "How are you today?" she asks after a moment.

"I'm good," Phil says, and he doesn't think it's a lie. He's fine, in his opinion at least. The way he sees it, life is life and Phil just has to deal with it like everyone else, right? Right. He's resilient, or so he keeps telling himself.

"It didn't really seem like that yesterday though, did it?" She begins to probe, and Phil shrugs. "Yesterday you said that you are, or that you've been, considering doing something to hurt or… kill yourself because of bullying here at school. Is there anything else that may be contributing to feeling like that, do you think?"

"I'm not going to kill myself," Phil states bluntly, "Honestly, I'm not."

"Alright, that's great to hear," she smiles, "Do you mind if I ask you some more personal questions? You don't have to answer them if you don't want to, but it might help if I knew a little bit more about you, is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Have you ever been diagnosed with any mental illnesses before by a psychologist or psychiatrist?"

"I was diagnosed with depression last year by a psychologist, but then after about four months I went to a psychiatrist and she said the same thing and prescribed the medication that I was on for a while," Phil answers. He's been through this before with the professionals so he figures he may as well cooperate.

"Alright then, do you know what the medication was called?" she asks, Phil shakes his head and she smiles, "That's fine. Is there a reason why you don't take that medication anymore?"

Perfect. There is no sane way to say "Yeah! I went to the future and saw that I was dependant on them, like in the drug-abuse kind of way and when I came back I stopped taking them because I don't want to be a drug addict when I'm older!"

When Phil doesn't answer Miss Anderson speaks, "Do your parents know that you're not taking them anymore?"

"No…"

"Can you tell me the reason why you stopped taking them?"

"Fear, mostly. I think."

"Yeah?" She asks, "Fear of what?"

Phil sighs. He may as well be somewhat honest, right? "Um…" he starts, "I'm genuinely scared that I'm going to become dependent on them and become a drug addict…"

"Phil, that's not going to happen from taking your medication like normal, what makes you think that you're going to become dependent on drugs?"

"Trust me, Miss, it's something that I know is going to happen and I just need to try and prevent it."

"Have you used illegal drugs, or abused prescription medication in the past?" Miss Anderson looks up at Phil as if she's trying to dig into his mind and extract the answer.

"No, I haven't."

"Alright, we'll come back to this in a little bit, I just have a few more questions, is that alright with you?" Phil nods in response and she gets started as Phil prepares to attempt to sound as sane as humanly possible. It'll be over soon.


	10. Chapter 10

Phil's family doesn't regularly attend church, but his mother does. Phil, his father, and his brother, only attend when Mrs Lester tells them that it's time they visited God in his own house rather than taking advantage of the fact that God will be with them in their home all the time. Phil doesn't believe in God and he doesn't know why not, though he guesses it's because there was never a real connection there. There's this feeling that all of the dedicated church-goers describe, and Phil's never felt it. There's supposed to be this _love_ , this _connection_ , this… overwhelming sense of _knowing, comfort, trust_ , _righteousness, and peace._ He tried to feel that way, the way you're supposed to feel when you've been saved, when you're a Christian, but he's never been able to. For a short time he thought it was because God didn't love him, and for a much longer time he believed that there was something wrong with him, because how wide of the mark can you be that you can't even accept God and Jesus into your heart? Phil doesn't think either of those things anymore.

Eventually he decided that he didn't care, and soon after that he realised that it was okay and that it didn't matter. He wasn't, and still isn't, a Christian, he just doesn't believe that, and that's perfectly okay. His mother, though, still expects him to be present at church on the rare occasions that the family does attend. Phil doesn't mind, he respects that his mother is a devout Christian and that the rest of his family probably believe in something along the same lines as she does. He doesn't mind having to sit through singing, services, and prayer from time-to-time, maybe he'll learn something or magically start feeling the way he supposes Christians feel.

Dan's family goes to church every week, his father goes twice and his younger brother attends youth group there on Friday nights. Somewhere along the grapevine, Phil heard that Dan once attended the same group but that he doesn't anymore. Dan's father never once stepped foot inside a church until the passing of his wife, Dan's mother. All Phil knows is that now their whole family, all three of them, attend the morning service at St Mark's church on Vega Street, so it came as no surprise when Phil spotted the brown eyed teenager walking into the church as Phil and his family pulled up.

"Alright," Phil's mum begins as everyone takes off their seatbelts, "Best behaviour, be nice, and-"

"Mum," Martyn cuts off with a chuckle, "We're not five; we'll be fine."

"I'm serious, boys. We really need this right now and it's important," Mrs Lester states, and the all nod and shuffle out of the car.

The service is over and everyone is standing around and chatting. A few of the older ladies have gushed over how much Phil has grown and how long his hair's gotten and the youth group leaders have urged him to start attending their programs, apparently they're "really fun, and there's nothing better than spending your Friday nights with Jesus!". It's laughable, but Phil doesn't poke fun, he just smiles and says that he'll think about it each time another one comes to ramble about it. Eventually the regular attendees lose interest in him and Phil is free to focus his attention on locating Dan. His parent's car is still here and Phil spots Dan's dad talking to a pretty woman from the church choir, so he hasn't left yet.

Wandering around the grounds of the church he admires the large tree standing in the middle of the grounds, it's a sessile oak he briefly remember someone telling him once. He takes a few steps closer, quickly checking behind him that no one from the church was missing him before turning back to the tree. He looks up at the few clouds in the sky through the branches and takes in a quiet, but deep, breath as he takes another step forward to get a better look at the sky against the foliage.

"I don't even know why you would be listening anymore, honestly," Phil hears a boy's voice, "I know I wouldn't be… but then again, I guess that's why you're God and I'm not. I'm not God, and sometimes I'm not even sure if I'm human, is that stupid? Yeah. That's stupid, I'm sorry. The thing is, God, I don't understand why I am the way that I am. You and me, we're meant to be best friends, aren't we? I'm supposed love you and you're supposed to love me, but how can you or any God-loving person, including myself, love me if…?"

Phil just keeps listening. He knows that it's Dan now, he can recognise the voice. Dan Howell, sitting under a large oak tree in, barely hidden by the large trunk. Dan's voice is soft and scared, and Phil knows that eavesdropping is wrong, and it's even more so when it's somebody's prayers, but he can't help it. There's so much that he wants to know.

"I don't understand why you would let me love you if you're the one that made me gay! You don't like homosexuality, everyone knows that! What would my mum think? Is she up there with you? Can you tell me what she thinks? Can you tell me what _you_ think? I just… I hate myself, and I'm sorry for hating something that you've created, but… but you did this to me and I'm scared that I might hate you for it too. I don't want to hate you…" Dan spurs emotionally.

The thing about hearing someone's prayers is that they are the most personal thoughts and feelings that a human being will ever utter, but something inside Phil tells him that he's meant to be hearing these things, so he stays put. The poor boy sounds so distressed that Phil wants nothing more than to reveal the fact that he'd been listening just so that he could take Dan in his arms and tell him that everything will be alright. This though, isn't an option and would most definitely ruin any chances of a friendship with, or eventual marriage to, Dan.

"You already know this I think, because you know everything, but I've been with a man in a homosexual relationship. It wasn't just homosexual. It was homo-romantic, and like, I mean… love is good, right? 'Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.' That's in the Bible, I know it is because I've read it dozens of times over, savouring the fact that it could mean that you don't hate me. That I don't have to hate me." Suddenly Dan is crying and Phil can hear the heart break in his voice as he speaks, "I've tried to not be an abomination, but the thing is, I didn't choose this and I can't choose to not be this either. Sometimes I even think that it's okay..."

There's this guy," Dan begins again after a brief pause, he breathes a laugh and takes in another lungful of air, "That sounds so dumb, like a cliché movie where the main character is- actually, never mind. Anyway, there's this guy and his name is Phil. He's a good person, he's here today, and he's not straight either. He makes it seem like it's not that bad, like it could be okay. No one hates him for it, except me of course but I promise I'm going to stop, he's just… he's fine with it, and I want that. I just don't know how I can have that and still have you at the same time. I get that you're supposed to be put first, but you're not the one down here suffering. I am, and I think that sometimes you need to put yourself first in order to be okay. Maybe if my mum knew that… Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I don't know if we can be friends anymore and that it breaks my heart because you've always been such a huge part of my life. I don't want to hate myself, and I don't want to live with the knowledge that someone I love hates me because of who I am. That's not a positive relationship, and I just can't subject myself to that kind of abuse. I'm sorry that I've let you down, but if you really think about it, you've let yourself down. You made me the way that I am and you expected me to follow a path of self-hate and sadness, this is your own fault. I know this conversation has taken a turn, but I'm angry. I'm angry, and I'm hurt, and I feel so alone without your love… the thing is, I don't think I'm going to feel like this forever. I'm resilient. I'll be okay one day, lots of people lead happy, amazing lives without you, and I can too. I'm never going to deny you, because I think I'll always believe in you, but I can't have the relationship with you that I think I'm meant to. I think- I hate to say it, but I think this is goodbye…"

Phil turns around and walks back toward the large congregation of people outside the church, ready to look for his mum and tell her that he needs to get out of here. He's shocked, he's… he doesn't know what else he's feeling. Phil doesn't know what he's supposed to feel when he hears someone break up with their God. He picks up his walking pace and heads into one of the more modern church buildings where the kitchen and bathrooms are, he's a little surprised at how well he's managed to remember where everything is. He pushes open the glass double doors and looks around him. The congregation must've bought new furniture because it actually looks quite good in here, Phil notes. The kitchen adorning this dining hall is empty, which Phil finds quite strange as he swears his mum had said she was helping with the church morning tea this morning.

"Ah, Philip! Have you enjoyed your morning in the presence of God?" an older man's voice comes from behind him, "It is a lovely day to enjoy the stained-glass window depictions of Mary, Jesus, and… well, whoever those other people were."

Phil, irritated, rolls his eyes before turning to be greeted with none other than Mr Wilder. "Honestly, you're following me to church now, too? Clearly you don't believe in God, I mean, not with the whole time-traveling 'psychic' thing you've got going on."

"You say 'psychic' like you don't believe I am one," Wilder points out, his voice filled with intrigue.

"There's a difference between time traveling, or projecting people into other times, or _whatever_ , and actually having psychic or metaphysical senses."

"That's true. Luckily for me, I have both abilities mastered and clearly printed on my resume."

"Not that you need a resume, you just walk in and fake being a substitute teacher whenever you're strapped for cash."

"I am, actually, a qualified teacher." Wilder's smile widens as Phil stops with no response, "You see, Phil, I've had a lot of time to do a lot of things, I just didn't think it necessary to list off all of my notable achievements to you."

"Right. Thanks for making me feel like an idiot, it's much appreciated."

"And for the record, I do believe in a god. Maybe it's not the same as God-god," Mr Wilder indicates, gesturing toward their surroundings, "But I do believe there is a god, and of course there is no doubt about the goddess."

"Alright…" Phil nods, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm here to help you help Daniel. You heard him earlier, by the tree. You heard his prayers, you heard his thoughts and feelings, and you heard his fears. I'm not sending you back to your childhood, or into your future. No, this time you're only going back about ten minutes. When Dan re-joins the congregation, be there for him," Wilder says, "You're a source of hope and inspiration for him, and maybe he needs that source to remind him that he doesn't necessarily have to abandon his faith."

"But I don't even believe in any of that stuff?" Phil questions, "And he seems like he doesn't want to either."

"Philip, without his faith he very well may end up like his mo-"

"Don't say that!" Phil demands, "Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

"If you care about him that much," Mr Wilder says as Phil wills his eyes to stay open, "Then perhaps this is something you ought to do."

Against his will, Phil's dry eyes blink shut, and he knows what's going to happen next.


End file.
